To feel that he was near her seemed a happiness to him.
He departed without even seeing her.
Weeks had elapsed since the Indian maiden had been laid to rest within the old fort.
Alice often visited the spot.
And there Wacora, who had once, more returned to the town again, saw her.
She was resting on the same stone where Sansuta’s head had rested on her bosom.
On perceiving the chief’s approach she rose to her feet, as if to quit the spot.
“Does my coming drive you away?” he asked.
“Not that; but it is growing late, and I must return to my prison.”
“Your prison?”